


The Janitor’s Closet

by GreatComet1812



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Angst, Blame Joey for the name confusion, Claustrophobia, Even if he doesn’t think he does, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Most characters don’t actually show up, PTSD, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Poor Wally he doesn’t deserve this, Sammy Wally and Henry all show up, Sammy is a good boy, Sammy’s real name is Samuel, Swearing, They have middle name initials, Trauma, Wally deserves Sammy, Wally’s dad is a jerk, Wally’s real name is Walter, cursing, don’t question it, pregame, the rest are only mentioned, they don’t mean anything really though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatComet1812/pseuds/GreatComet1812
Summary: Wally accidentally locks himself in the janitors closet, causing some very discomforting memories for him to resurface while Sammy has to save the day.
Relationships: Wally Franks/Sammy Lawrence
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40





	The Janitor’s Closet

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Closed Closet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19736947) by [MarieLamb_B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieLamb_B/pseuds/MarieLamb_B). 



> I didn’t realize until I was like 90% of the way through thinking up this plot on my own that there is an alternative Sammy/Wally fanfiction already on AO3 following the concept of Wally locking himself in a closet. I am going to try and make this one as unique as I can to that other fic. Please go read that one too because it’s good and the author did a great job writing it. 
> 
> Sorry to MarieLamb_B please don’t be mad that I wanted to add my own spin on this concept I’ve had this idea for a long time and finally wanted to put it to good use.
> 
> Their story is called “Closed Closet” and they take a more religious turn and connect it to some of their other Sammy/Wally fics. They’re story is a good read so please leave your kudos. Hope y’all enjoy my take on the idea aswell.
> 
> With all that being specified, let’s get on to the story ;)

Wally had always been a bit of a clutz, but that usually turned out okay. Sometimes he’d slip on a puddle of some spilled coffee or water or even ink, and while it almost always left some sort of stain on his work clothes for the day he usually just laughed it off. Sometimes he’d trip over an instrument left out in the band hall, or a projector left out in the booth, or a random box left in the walkway of a storage room and end up landing in a pile of sheet music, film reels, and/or whatever other random piles of equipment. 

However, sometimes his clumsiness could end up getting him into compromising situations. Such as the time his shirt somehow snagged onto the door of the elevator as Shawn Flynn, one of his many friends, were going down to discuss merchandise concepts with Mr. Drew. He ended up dragged into the elevator shaft and on top of the entire elevator, his only good shirt tearing soon after and Shawn having to hit an emergency switch while they both called for Thomas to help them. Or the time that he somehow someway had ended up wandering up onto one of the highest shelves in the warehouse of the Special Projects department before being helped down by the workers and Lacie Benton, then getting scolded by both her and Bertrum Piedmont himself. 

To put it simply, Walter G. Franks had a habit of unintentionally finding new ways to make it just a little bit harder for his fellow workers to properly do things around the studio. He didn’t mean to, of course, but it happened and everyone was pretty much used to the weekly occurrence of Thomas’ disappointed sigh followed by “Dammit Franks” as he followed one of his colleagues down a hall to get his work partner out of whatever predicament he’d gotten himself into. 

That was, unless it was in the Music Department. Then, the responsibility of handling the goofy janitor always went to the much more down to earth music director Samuel E. Lawrence, or Sammy as everyone knew him. Every interaction between him and Wally seemed to turn out the same way. A random worker or band member would go to Sammy’s office and pull him away from his important work to inform him that 

“Sammy, Wally got his head stuck in the tuba... again” 

or 

“Mr. Lawrence, sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Franks ended up getting tied up in some old film reels in the storage room in the band hall,” 

or even 

“Lawrence, Franks thought it’d be cool tah throw his keys intah mah projectah booth an’ den tried retrievin’ ‘em by takin’ a runnin’ start den slammin’ intah dah wall tryna jump up there... now he’s knocked hisself out...”

Then every. Single. Time. Sammy would have to just give a disappointed sigh, stand, and follow the poor soul who chose to interrupt him that day only to find the younger Brooklyn man in some stupid situation he could’ve easily avoided and the tired musician would then have to get him out of. He’d fix it, Wally would thank him, Sammy would drag him back to his office and scold him, Wally would get upset and apologize, Sammy would hug him, then that would be all of it.

However, today that “Franks Fumble,” or as Norman and Thomas so eloquently put it “Franks Fuck-Up,” turned out a bit differently than some of the others. It was a Friday and surprisingly, Wally hadn’t had a clutz mistake all week. Now, it was late and most of the workers had gone home, everyone was impressed with the little janitor for actually being able to make it through a week. Even he was proud of himself. Until it happened.

Henry Stein had fallen asleep at his desk for the upteenth time and ended up knocking over his ink well in the process, causing glass to fall to the floor and shatter, glass and ink splattering everywhere. Wally was making his way to his main closet in the music department to find a mop and broom to wipe up the mess. However, when he opened the door, little did he notice that his keys were quick to fall out of the gaping hole in his pocket and right to the floor. He began digging around until he made a false step, tripped on an upturned piece of wood, and ended up tumbling into the closet, his ankle twisting into a strange, uncomfortable angle in the process as the door swung shut and auto locked itself. 

Wally was disoriented at first, having hit his head on a shelf when he fell, until he felt fluid begin to drip from his nose. He tensed, recognizing the smell as blood, and quickly tried to stand only to cry out in pain as it awfully jolted itself into his ankle when he put weight on it. He collapsed to the floor, holding his ankle, and that’s when he took note of his surroundings. 

It was dark, and cramped, and felt almost as if the air was limited. Wally started panting, looking frantically for a way out, reaching for the handle only to jiggle it and find it was locked. 

“No... n-no no no no-“

Panic begins to settle in as he starts feelings at the walls, pushing on them almost as if he felt them starting to close in, get smaller, even though nothing was. 

“N-no no no NO-“

He repeated the word over and over, panting in between, until he started banging. He clenched his fists, banging onto the door as hard as he could, tears pricking his eyes as he felt memories of his awful childhood start coming back to him.

“NO! NO!” 

He squinted his eyes shut, muttering to himself, eventually getting louder and louder until he was screaming.

“N-No... p-please... p-please not again... d-don’ put me back in ‘ere... p-please, I’m sorry... I’m sorry, I’M SORRY! DAD PLEASE! LEMME OUT! LEMME OUT I’LL BE GOOD I PROMISE PLEASE!” Tears streamed down his face as he continued banging desperately on the door, begging someone he knew wasn’t even there to let him out of the little prison that’d formed from his own precious closet.

-.-

About half an hour after Wally left Henry began to wonder what was taking so long. Usually Wally would’ve been back within a third of this time, what was holding up the janitor? The animator stands tiredly and makes his way towards the music department to try and find his friend.

He’s down there within another five minutes and is able to hear the muffled screaming from the elevator. He rushes down towards the hall and is able to quickly realize the situation, but not how to get the poor other man out. So, he does what all the other workers would do, and makes his way to Sammy’s office.

-.-

Knock knock.

Sammy sighs as he looks up from his sheet music.

“Come in...” he says, exasperatedly.

Henry opens the door. “Sammy, you need to follow me, quick. It’s Mr. Franks...”

Sammy groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just when I think he could make it for a week he pulls this...” he sighs and stands. “Alright, take me to him...”

-.-

They hear the desperate pleas again before they’re even fully in the hallway the closet is in. Sammy hears the sound and his whole demeanor seems to change. His annoyance and slight anger quickly fades into a tense worry as he starts walking quicker down the hall and to the closet.

The screaming has wound down to faint, desperate cries at this point, still speaking the same words. Sammy quickly jiggles the doorknob, the janitor inside not seeming to notice his actions. He groans when he realizes it’s locked, then quickly looks around for Wally’s keys. He sees a trash can close to the door and quickly picks it up, digging through it. Sure enough, the janitors keys were inside. Sammy throws the trash bin away across the hall in a panicked quickness, speedinly unlocking and opening the door. 

As soon as the door opened, the ginger, usually optimistic and overly happy janitor fell backwards out from where he’d been leaning against the door. He was sobbing uncontrollably, his whole body shaking. His fists were bruised from his frightened banging, his nose bloody from falling into the shelf, his ankle awfully twisted. He continued to mutter and plea, his eyes still squinted shut.

“P-Please... p-please I’m sorry... p-please don’ put me in dere again... p-please...”

Sammy looked over him in shock. Henry met the music directors eyes then slowly walked away, opting to give the two their space. The spilled inkwell could wait. Sammy slowly knelt down, looking at the terrified ginger. He softly, gently lifted the smaller man into his arms and held him. He didn’t know why he thought to do so, but he did. Him and Wally weren’t together, not officially, though the two were basically considered a couple at this point. Of course, in true couples fashion, as soon as Sammy lifted the poor boy he turned and hid himself into his chest, his hands reaching up to grip his shirt and cling to him as he softly cried, muttering thank yous and apologies.

Sammy could feel his heart slowly shattering as he looked down at Wally, someone he always saw with a smile on his face, someone he’d always envied for his optimism, now in such an unbelievably vulnerable and terrified state. The music director couldn’t help but to pull the janitor closer to him, removing the smaller’s newsboys cap and setting it aside so he could card his pale calloused fingers through his hair as a soft of comfort. Slowly, Wally began to calm down to just sniffles, still not letting go of Sammy.

After a couple minutes of nothing but the sounds of Wally’s muttering, then silence, Wally slowly looked up to his savior.

“S... Sa... M-Mistah L-Lawrence?” His voice was hoarse from screaming so much, shaky from his crying. 

Sammy sighs. “Sammy... call me Sammy, it’s okay... and yeah, it’s me...” His voice remains uncharacteristically gentle.

Wally pauses, then sniffles, nodding in understanding. He gives a quiet whimper, leaning into the taller’s warm embrace and giving a quiet “Th-Thank y-you...”

Sammy holds him. “You’re welcome... here, let’s get you patched up and you can tell me what happened... okay?”

Wally tenses a little, then slowly nods. Sammy slowly stands, lifting Wally up to carry him, being surprisingly strong. He carries the poor Brooklyn man to the infirmary and lays him down on the bed, which surprisingly still has a mattress. Wally whimpers a little from his ankle, shifting uncomfortably. Sammy takes one of his tanned fists into his calloused hand, grabbing some lotion and gently starting to rub it over the wounds.

“So... tell me what happened...” Sammy starts wrapping up Wally’s knuckles with a bandage.

Wally looks away, sniffling. “I-I... a-a Franks... F-Fuck Up... Fumble... w-whatevah...” he slowly sits himself up, leaning back against the wall, looking down at his lap.

Sammy sighs. “Judging by what I heard you saying, this seems like more than that...” he starts tending to the janitor’s other fist.

Wally bites his lip, tensing. “I-I... I-I don’ like small spaces...” he cheeks grow a light pink, his embarrassment very visible.

Sammy nods. “I can tell that much... what I’m wondering is what is it that made you practically beg me to not put you back in there, as if I’d ever be that much of an asshole to do so...”

Wally quietly whimpers, refusing to meet the other man’s eyes. Sammy moves down to Wally’s ankle, slowly and carefully starting to try and remove his shoe.

Wally whimpers again, both from the pain of getting his heavy work boot off, and from struggling to answer. “I-I... y-yah don’ wanna know ‘bout all dat personal bs... i-it’s kinda dark and I don’ wancha tah pity me for bein’ an idiot and gettin’ mahself pun... l-locked up in dere...”

Sammy successfully gets Wally’s boot off, setting it down on the ground. He can already see the poor boys swelling from beneath his sock and wrinkled pant leg. He looks up, meeting Wally’s eye. “Listen, Wally. Look, I... I know I scold you and get made at you a lot for stuff like this, but... I can tell this one is different and...” he sighs. “Look, the reason I scold you the way I do is cause... I... I-I like you, Wally. As much as I hate to admit it, I do...” he blushes lightly. “I-I scold you in hopes you’ll eventually run out of random mishaps and won’t end up getting yourself severely hurt, but... I can see it isn’t working. So... I’m not going to be scolding you for this, especially after seeing your reaction...” he gently takes the other man’s hand into his own. “And I want you to be able to tell me anything, even if you don’t like me back, I don’t care, just... I want to know what’s wrong so I can do what I can to help...”

Wally feels tears prick the corners of his eyes. His embarrassed blush grows a deeper pink, as the tears finally start to fall again. “I-I like you too, Sammy...” he sniffles. Sammy sighs, stopping his medical routine and standing, making his way to the other man and wrapping him into a soft hug, which he lovingly accepts as he softly cries on his shoulder, his sobs a mix of both slight joy and what seemed like crippling fear.

“M... M-My dad... h-hated me...” Wally sniffled. “W-when I was younger, h-he’d beat me up, th-then lock me in his closet. I-It was full of the belts and a hockey stick and other things he would hit me with... i-it was so dark and cold and I’d beg him to lemme out but he wouldn’t... s-sometimes I was left for hours, even days... I-I would come out smelling my like my own... waste... a-and sometimes vomit cause I’d panic and be hurt so bad...” he blushes deeper, hiding in Sammys shoulder and tending up from the pure embarrassment. “I-It was awful... I-I... g-gettin’ trapped in dere brought me back...” he softly started to cry again, clinging to the other man like a lifeline. 

Sammy wasn’t sure what to say. Tears filled his own eyes as he held Wally a little closer and tighter, wanting to engulf him with his body like a protective bubble and never let him go. 

“W-Wally...” he starts carding through his hair again, gently pulling out the tie that kept it tied back and setting it aside, allowing the ginger locks to curl out and around the smallers head. “W-What cruel monster would ever torture such a lovely creature in such a sadistic way?” 

Wally whimpered quietly, shaking his head. “I-I dunno... b-but I’m not lovely... I-I deserved it...”

Sammy gasped in shock. “N-No! N-No you didn’t!”

Wally flinches at Sammy’s sudden outburst, immediately mutter an “I-I’m Sorry!” in response. 

The music director sighs. “It... it’s okay...” he calms down. “Just... please don’t talk about yourself like that... you’re kind, beautiful, funny, adorable, and just... a-amazing... a-and I want you to always be happy and smiling... a-anyone who would ever want to take that away from you is an evil monster I’d probably kick the ass of if I ever met them...”

Wally was able to muster a small laugh in response, starting to calm down. Sammy smiled, continuing to just play with Wally’s hair, whispering sweet nothings until he’d completely calmed down. He gives the janitor a light, gentle kiss on top of the head, making him blush, then stands, going back down by his ankle to continue his medical work.

He removed Wally’s sock to reveal his awfully swollen ankle. He quickly makes an ice pack and gently lays it over the injury, taking some bandages and wrapping them around the pack to secure it. Wally shivered and whimpered from the cold. 

Sammy then moved back to Wally’s face, taking a nice, warm, wet rag and gently wiping the blood from under his nose. Wally leaned into the gentle touch, making Sammy smile. Sammy turned away to grab a tissue for Wally to put up the bleeding side of the nose, only to look back up and almost immediately lock lips with his “patient”. Sammy blushed all the way to the tips of his pointy ears then slowly kisses back, closing his eyes. Wally pulls away first, his face as red as his hair, Sammy giving him a soft smile when they pull away. Sammy kisses Wally’s nose, handing him the tissue to put into his nostril. Wally did so then took Sammys hands, gently tugging them as if to silently ask Sammy to join him on the small medical bed.

Sammy smiled. “I think I can do one better...” he stand up and gently lifts the smaller into his arms, much to Wally’s delight. He carries him out of the studio and into his car, then makes the drive to his own house.

They get to Sammy’s house, which is very nice and in a pretty neighborhood, and Sammy lifts the janitor out of his car. He brings him inside and sits on the couch, Wally giving a yawn as he had already started growing tired in the car.

Sammy pulls Wally to his lap, laying out as Wally lied on top of him, his head on his chest. Sammy cards though his hair. 

“Th-Thank you, Sammy... s-so much...” Wally says, half asleep. “I... l-love you...”

Sammy blushes and smiles more. “You’re welcome, Wally... sleep well, I love you too...” 

The two fall asleep in each others arms.

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone is curious, I took the initials for the middle names from the real world inspirations for the characters. Wally was inspired by Frank Wells, whose middle name started with a “G” so we have Walter G. Franks as Wally’s full name. Sammy was inspired by Sammy Fain, whose middle name starts with an “E” so we have Samuel E. Lawrence as Sammy’s full name.


End file.
